The Stubborn Persistence of the Soul

Ka – The untranslatable ancient Egyptian concept of the vital spark, shown here above the head as two upraised arms linked together. Ka – The imperishable principle of life itself, not linked to the life of an individual – comes into existence at the moment of birth, and is a kind of doppelganger of the individual – that aspect of men and gods that is connected with the creative life force. The splitting up of the Ka force into various aspects, such as splendor, fame, life span, power, food, seeing, hearing, knowing constitutes the collective concept of what the Ka is – and contributes to the impossibility of translating the idea. Ka is usually rendered into modern languages as “soul.”

They say that there is no proof for my existenceFollowing God whom the rationalists have swept awayThere is no hope, no possibility of resistanceCold hard logic dictates: I’m a primitive thought, muddy thinking all grey

I am an antediluvian construct, vague, outdated, completely uselessI matter not, nor should I figure in intellectual debateIf you have any nostalgia for me, then it is stupid, pointlessMankind has evolved beyond me, to invoke me is way too late

Look, see there… the computer hums like a bumblebee!That’s the electronic shuffle of ones and zeros, bits and bytesIt’s all quite simple really, mathematics and what you can prove and see!We are all just primates when we turn out the lights

Science has triumphed – Rejoice! While I sit alone in the cornerLike a little mouse, I dare not make a sound, nor even a peep-squeakAll the grownups have spoken, it must be true then, even if it isn’t fairMaybe if I just roll up into a little ball, and be very humble and meek

Maybe they will just stop yelling and saying I don’t matter or existMaybe if I become just like God, who is constantly tortured and executedThey will just use me as a punching bag, and I can become like the mistLet the arguments and concrete proofs pass through me, allocuted

In the world-wide trial for my continued right to even be mentioned aloudWith the mind that seems so much more important than meMaybe I should just wrap myself up in a white funeral shroudFor the mighty brain and DNA saturated life seem to have so much primacy

That I seem like so much Mediaeval, pre-rational gobbledygookIs there not an equation or a quantum particle to stand up for little me?Is there not some microchip pixel over-clocked nano-perceiver ebookTo list me even in its final footnote as a conjecture, a bit of old debris?

So… there is no proof for my existence, not even a shred, nothingSo I sit here in the corner, while theoretical physics and relativity rage onMaybe if I close my eyes, and quietly pray within myself, and cling…To God whom they are trying to destroy, maybe I’ll breathe again with the dawn.

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Konrad Tademar is an American poet living in Los Angeles. His works range from single sonnets to epic poems on themes including current events, myth, and philosophy. In addition to American subjects, his work is strongly informed by international events and history, especially those of freedom and oppression.

Tademar's early childhood was spent in Poland where he was particularly influenced by the rise of the anti-communist Solidarity labor union. Following his return to the U.S., he studied philosophy and literature at Los Angeles City College where he was president of the Poet's Platform. He then went on to graduate from UCLA. He has appeared in Los Angeles venues such as the Onyx, Ground's Zero, Magicopolis Theater, Wilshire Art Gallery, and Pig and Whistle. In 1991, he founded the Witching Hour Poetry Gathering which has met continuously for over 20 years. Additionally, he is a founding member of the Pecan Pie Organization, dedicated to artistic promotion, stage performances.

His poetry book "Fifty Sonnets, titles like labels only get in the way..." is available for purchase on Lulu.com. Two epic poems, "Prometheus" and "Trafficking In Time" are scheduled for release in the near future.